They were glad afterwards that they had done this, because
it gave them a sure starting-point.
Along in the fall of the year, as Robert was breaking ground for
wheat, he got an invitation to attend a neighborhood prayer meeting.
"Good evening, neighbor," said a voice, "don't you want to go to our
prayer meeting next Wednesday night?"
Robert looked up from his work and saw it was old Peter Newby.
"Why, yes, I guess so. Sure," said Robert. "What kind of a prayer
meeting is it?"
"We have a good one," said Peter, "come and see."
"All right, we'll come," said Robert.
This prayer meeting was held at Fairmount school house, a fine school
building situated on the brow of a lilac-covered hill at the bottom of
which hill one of the finest and largest springs in the country gushed
forth. It was, as stated, ostensibly a neighborhood prayer meeting,
but Peter Newby just about dominated it, and was carrying it on just
about to suit himself. The method pursued was to read a chapter, and
follow with a free-for-all exposition of it.
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